Ignored All, Fell for One

The city lights blurred into streaks as Alexander Cain sat in the backseat of his sleek black Rolls-Royce, staring out the tinted window. Another gala, another night of shallow conversations and forced smiles. He had endured hours of business elites flaunting their wealth, socialites clinging to his arm, and investors who only saw him as a walking opportunity. He had enough.

"Take me somewhere quiet," Alexander ordered his driver, loosening his tie.

The car turned away from the city's high-rise glamour and entered a quieter district. Soon, the neon-lit skyline was replaced with old brick buildings and narrow streets. A small café on the corner caught Alexander's attention. It wasn't extravagant, nor did it have the pretentiousness of the places he was used to. Just a simple, warm-lit space with a faded sign that read Lena's Café.

"Stop here."

The driver hesitated. "Sir, are you sure-"

"I said stop."

Alexander stepped out, the crisp night air biting at his face. He pushed open the glass door and a soft bell chimed above. Inside, - the scent of freshly brewed coffee and vanilla filled the air. A few late-night customers sat with their books or laptops, lost in their own worlds. No one turned to gawk at him. No cameras, no whispers of recognition.

It was a relief.

Behind the counter, a young woman stacked plates with quick, efficient movements. Loose strands of dark brown hair had escaped her ponytail, framing her face. She was focused on her task, not even sparing him a glance.

"Welcome," she said flatly, without looking up.

Alexander frowned. No wide eyes? No nervous smile? No immediate attempt to impress? He was accustomed to women falling over themselves for a moment of his attention. But this woman... she barely acknowledged his presence.

He stepped closer. "Coffee. Black."

Finally, she looked up, her gaze meeting his. Her eyes-warm hazel with flecks of gold-held no hint of recognition-just mild disinterest.

"Cash or card?" she asked, completely unfazed.

Alexander hesitated. Usually, his assistant handled these trivial matters. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek black credit card.

She took it, swiped it, and handed it back without a second glance. "Take a seat. I'll bring it over."

No name. No special treatment. Just simple, indifferent service.

Intriguing.

Alexander took a seat near the window, watching as she worked behind the counter. She moved with effortless ease, chatting briefly with an older man at the register, her laughter light and genuine.

He hadn't realized how unfamiliar that sound was to him.

Minutes later, she placed a steaming cup of black coffee in front of him. "Here you go."

Alexander glanced at the cup, then at her. "You didn't ask for my name."

She raised an eyebrow. "Should I have?"

His lips twitched-almost a smirk. "Most people do."

"Well, I'm not most people." She shrugged and walked away.

For the first time in years, Alexander Cain found himself intrigued by someone who had no interest in him at all.

Alexander sipped his coffee, the bitterness grounding him in the present. It had been a long time since he sat alone in a place without expectations, - without a carefully curated image to uphold. He leaned back, watching the woman work. Her presence was unassuming yet captivating. He noticed how she smiled at customers-a genuine warmth that was rare in his world.

His world. A place of power, wealth, and ruthless ambition. He had spent years building an empire, ensuring he was always in control. Yet, here, in this small café, he felt a strange lack of control-and for once, it didn't bother him.

The woman, oblivious to his internal musings, moved from table to table, wiping down surfaces and refilling sugar dispensers. A small group of university students occupied a corner booth, their laughter blending with the soft hum of background jazz. A tired businessman near the door scrolled through his phone, absently stirring his coffee. The café was alive in a quiet, unpretentious way.

Alexander's gaze drifted back to the counter, where the woman-Lena if the cafe's name was anything to go by-was refilling the pastry display. He watched as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her expression focused as she arranged muffins and croissants. There was something oddly satisfying about the simplicity of her world.

After a few minutes, she returned to the counter, pulling out a small notepad. She scribbled something down, then glanced up and caught him staring.

"Need anything else?" she asked, her voice neutral.

Alexander hesitated. He wasn't sure what he wanted. For the first time, he wasn't here on business, wasn't here to impress or negotiate. He was just... here.

"Do you own this place?" he found himself asking.

Lena nodded. "Yep."

"You run it alone?"

"Mostly." She leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "Why?"

Alexander shrugged. "Just curious."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as if trying to gauge his intentions. "You don't seem like the curious type."

"What type do I seem like?"

She considered for a moment. "The type that doesn't usually end up in places like this."

Alexander smirked. "You're not wrong."

Lena tilted her head, studying him. "So, why are you here?"

He could have said he needed a break, that he wanted peace, that he was tired of the suffocating expectations of his life. Instead, he settled for, "The coffee."

She didn't look convinced but didn't press further. Instead, she nodded toward his cup. "Then you should probably drink it before it gets cold."

Alexander took another sip, watching as she turned to help another customer. He wasn't sure what it was about her-her indifference, her quiet strength, - or the simple fact that she treated him like just another person-but something about Lena Carter made him want to stay longer than he should.

The night stretched on, and instead of leaving after his coffee, he ordered another. The café, though modest, had a comforting atmosphere, a stark contrast to the sterile perfection of his penthouse. He watched Lena interact with her customers, her kindness effortless and uncalculated.

For a man who had everything, Alexander realized how little he had. A life meticulously built on power, status, and solitude-yet sitting in this tiny café, watching a woman who saw him as no more than a stranger, made him feel more human than he had in years.

As Lena moved behind the counter, he noticed a small scar on her wrist. An old one, faint but noticeable. It stirred something unfamiliar in him - curiosity mixed with something deeper. A past? A story?

He wanted to know.

And that was dangerous.